Celeste
Josh and I rode quietly to the edge of the village, dismounted, and tied our horses behind a thicket of brush where they wouldn’t be spotted.
“Wren, stay close to me. Please.” Josh looked at me with the face of a man who was already writing his eulogy.
I smiled at him. I knew he was nervous and I appreciated him coming with me. “I will.”
We crept along the back side of the village, keeping to the shadows between buildings. As we rounded the last corner, the center of the village opened up in front of us. There was a celebration going on. A bonfire blazing in the circle, music carrying on the night air, soldiers eating and drinking and laughing with the villagers like old friends. Not the behavior of a neutral village hosting passing strangers. The behavior of a village that had
